Not as it Seems
by risingsunsets
Summary: When Harry receives his letter, his once painful existence turns into something resembling happiness. But when he gets to Hogwarts, the unusual abilities of the Sorting Hat call attention to what he was subjected to at the Dursley house, stopping the sorting, his subjection to the Dursley's, and all of Dumbledore's carefully laid plans concerning Harry Potter and Lord Voldemort.
1. 1: It Begins

**I'm starting this story from DrgnMstr's prompt that was suggested almost three years ago. I recently found this prompt, and quickly scoured for any stories influenced by it. I found two, both of which were abandoned.**

**This is me making my own.**

* * *

_What if the Founders had their own ideas on how to protect students? What if the Sorting Hat was the "spokesperson" for Hogwarts herself? What if all students were scanned by the hat for any problems as they came in and were sorted? This might wake some people up, or cause problems for plans people may or may not have made. Conditions:_

_1.) At Harry's sorting, the Sorting hat notices the abuse Harry had gone through at home. Abuse can be canon (neglect and emotional at the very least) or fanon (varying degrees of physical and/or even sexual). It immediately calls a halt to the sorting, calling for Madam Pomfrey and the head of the DMLE and will not sort anyone else until they arrive._

_Check._

_2.) There is no way to get around contacting these people (I leave it up to you to figure out how)._

_Check (with a bit of sass thrown in)._

_3.) Only when Harry is in the hands of Law Enforcement and the Healers will sorting continue._

_Check._

_4.) Dumbledore can be blind good guy or Dark Lord or anything in between._

_Dumbledore in this story is in between. He works for what he thinks is the greater good, and does some truly shady things to accomplish it._

_5.) Harry must get free of the Dursleys for this, they cannot escape punishment._

_Check._

_6.) Ships can be any, but 3-some with Hermione and another person or Multi preferable (helping to show him love). Ships can be very slow to begin with._

_I think I'm going to do a Harry/Luna. Hermione is too over-clichéd, and as far as canon is concerned, throughout the books Harry describes her as someone would do when there is no true attraction._

_7.) Harry should get other help from Hogwarts/Sorting Hat throughout his schooling._

_Check._

_8.) Horcruxes okay, but NO HARRY HORCRCUX. Mother's protection will not allow it._

_Check. In case anyone is confused, this rule means that Harry is NOT a horcrux, and therefore, does not have to die at the hand of Voldemort. Which means that Dumbledore raising him to die at the proper moment only further pushed Dumbledore away from Harry, and the right side._

_9.) Please, no Deathly Hollows._

_Check._

_10.) No evil!Harry. Grey!Harry or Light!Harry preferable, so long as good sided._

_This is a Grey!Harry story, as there is too much in the realm of magic to simply be put in categories of black and white. Grey is inevitable._

* * *

Harry had been in the cupboard under the stairs until the start of the holidays for the boa constrictor incident. He had not been more than one meal a day, and had to sneak food out of the kitchen at night when the Dursleys were asleep. Luckily, the Dursleys were not suspicious, as they thought his cupboard safely locked. This was not the case—while sleeping fitfully one night, his hand brushed the cupboard and it had opened.

Harry supposed this was just another strange thing that happened to him, but he was starving and grateful for the chance to eat something. The belt that held Dudley's old clothes on him didn't have any more holes to keep the pants around him.

Harry was finally let out of the cupboard by a very irritated looking Uncle Vernon, and Harry slowly walked out, knowing that running off outside would get him in trouble. He looked beadily at Harry, and smacked him on the head.

"If you… ever pull anything like that again, boy…" he said, "you won't make it back to the cupboard."

Harry nodded and gulped, careful not to touch his head, lest it provoke his Uncle's wrath.

"I don't want to see you for the rest of the day. Get out."

Harry all but ran for the door, and stepped outside. He heard Aunt Petunia talking to Vernon about needing to feed Duddykins more, she had noticed food going missing, and that must mean she wasn't feeding him enough.

Smiling slightly, Harry walked down the street to the playground nearby, and sat on the wheel-go-round. He liked to sit on the side and think a bit, if it was peaceful and none of Dudley's gang was around. Otherwise, he sat up in the trees.

* * *

He spent the next few days like this, and continued to do so, until one day he stepped out and saw, in the mail, a large, thick envelope. He picked it up, and it looked to be made of what he imagined parchment to be. And on the cover—

_Mr. H. Potter_

_The Cupboard under the Stairs_

_4 Privet Drive_

_Little Whinging_

_Surrey_

Harry stared, and thought quickly. He couldn't go inside and open it, the Dursley's would take it from him. He didn't know why, but he knew they wouldn't be happy about him getting a letter.

Stuffing it under his shirt, he ran down the other end of the road, away from the park. He didn't know if Dudley would be there, but there was no reason to take chances. He crawled up his favorite tree, careful not to drop the letter, found a branch high up that he propped himself on, and took out the letter.

_How did they know what room I live in?_ Thought Harry, and he turned it over to reveal a wax seal with a curious little crest in it that Harry could only make out as four separate parts. Opening it carefully, he took out a letter made of the same thick paper. There was the crest again at the top, this time easily identifiable as a lion, snake, badger, and eagle.

He read:

**HOGWARTS SCHOOL ****of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY**

**Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore ****(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, ****Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)**

**Dear Mr. Potter,**

**We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.****  
****Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.**

**Yours sincerely,**

**Minerva McGonagall****  
****Deputy Headmistress**

There was a second page of requirements for the school, but Harry didn't look at it.

This had to be a joke… hadn't it? There was no such thing as magic- Uncle Vernon drove that home every time he could, often with blows to the head. As he thought of it though, his uncle almost seemed like he was frightened of the idea. Harry's head was starting to hurt. He didn't know anyone he could trust with this, and so resolved to not say a word to anyone.

Harry sat out in the tree until the sun started to set, and he knew he'd be in trouble if he stayed there any longer.

When he got to his aunt and uncle's house, Uncle Vernon was at the door, and his face was almost purple. It would have been very comical if Harry didn't associate that face with his pain.

"Where were you, boy? Dudley got his things from Smeltings today, and of course it had to be a day ruined, as he was forced to get them in the house himself. Petunia had to be in the kitchen for cooking, as you weren't there, and so we had to have Dudley have his Smeltings things on in the kitchen, and do you know what happened?! Some ruddy owl flies next to the window, scaring my poor wife, and food went everywhere on my poor boy's new uniform!"

Uncle Vernon was livid, and Harry trembled. "When I get though with you.."

He picked Harry up by the back of his shirt, and then his letter fell out. Harry hoped fervently that Uncle Vernon wouldn't notice, but no such luck. His eye fell with the parchment envelope, and picked it up.

"What's this, boy? Stealing our mail?"

He threw Harry down and picked up the letter. Then he wished he hadn't.

Uncle Vernon's piggy eyes went wide, and looked at Harry frighteningly.

"GET IN THE HOUSE."

He didn't notice Arabella Figg across the street, looking at him intently.

* * *

There had been a lot of yelling. There had been a lot of yelling at Harry, and then a lot of yelling after Harry was put in his cupboard.

He had been in there almost a week now, and didn't know if they were even going to let him out again. If only he hadn't brought that letter home…

Harry almost cried again, but stopped himself each time. Aunt Petunia said she couldn't stand it when Harry made that awful sound, which translated to Uncle Vernon hitting him when it happened.

* * *

Two days later, there was a knock on the entrance to Number 4, Privet Drive, and Petunia Dursley opened the door to a very formal looking Mrs. Figg.

"Hello Mrs. Figg, what a pleasant surprise! Please, come in, come in, and make yourself at home in the lounge room. I'll be with you in a second."

"Oh, no need for that, dear," said Mrs. Figg steadily. "I won't be long. I was just wondering if I could take Harry to get his school supplies."

Petunia froze.

"O-o-oh, well, you see, Harry already has his supplies for Stonewall. I'm grateful for the concern, but-"

"No, Petunia, for Hogwarts. I saw that Harry received his letter. I can't imagine that you would be comfortable in Diagon Alley with him, and he really shouldn't be there alone."

* * *

The entire house was shellshocked. Vernon had spluttered at first about cost, that he was not going to pay money for Harry to go to a wizard's school, but Mrs. Figg had quickly told him to be quiet, that it was no concern to him. Petunia was silent, and Vernon was purple with anger, but Mrs. Figg instead went to the hallway of the house, to the cupboard where Harry was locked, and opened it.

Harry was sitting up intently, looking up at Mrs. Figg with the most shocked, but grateful expression he could muster.

"Come on Harry, we'd best be off to Diagon Alley. I will send an owl while we are there, to accept your enrollment."

* * *

Harry's head was whirring. How did Mrs. Figg know about the letter? How did she know he was in the cupboard? What was Diagon Alley?

He asked as much to Mrs. Figg, who was driving them to London, and it took her a little while to answer. When she did, she said finally, "Harry, I was born into the magical world many years ago. I know what a Hogwarts letter looks like."

"But then why do you live next to us?"

Arabella sighed. "I am a rarity among witches and wizards. I was born into a magic family, but with no magical powers myself. I am, what many call, a Squib."

"Squib doesn't sound like a very nice word."

"It isn't ever used as one, that's true."

"Why?"

"Harry, I can't answer all your questions right now. Now, as for Diagon Alley, it is one of the most popular places for wizards and witches in Britain to shop. There are others, certainly, but none with so many stores. It also holds the Wizarding bank of Gringotts, and Ollivander's, who makes wands. You'll need access to these places."

Harry was silent, thinking of all the places he was going to see today.

"You made noises in the cupboard, that's how I knew you were there. I certainly hope that was a poor prank by Dudley, and that your Aunt and Uncle just didn't realize you were there."

Harry made no noise other than to shift in his seat.


	2. 2: A Whole New World

**Author's Note: In case anyone was wondering, Harry does not get the multitude of school letters because he got the first one and opened it.**

**Chapter 2: A Whole New World**

Harry and Mrs. Figg had driven for another few minutes, until they came into London. After a minute or so, Mrs. Figg stopped the car, motioned Harry out, and led him to a dingy looking bar. Harry wondered if anyone who couldn't do magic could see it, and asked Mrs. Figg.

"Muggles pass it by. A few can see and get in, but usually through special provision, for instance, if their child is a witch or wizard. There are usually three or four Muggleborns every new school year."

"What's a Muggle?"

"It's the name for people that can't do magic, ordinary folk."

"Oh. So, a Muggleborn is someone who can do magic with parents that can't?"

"Yes."

They entered the dingy bar, and Mrs. Figg led him quickly through, stopping only to talk to the bartender quietly.

"Hello, Tom. It's me, Arabella. I need you to open the doorway so that Harry and I can get though."

At Tom's widening eyes looking at the small boy next to her, she hurriedly added, "Please don't say anything! I don't think Harry can deal with that many people swarming him."

Tom nodded, still a little awestruck, and led them through the back to a brick wall. Before doing anything, however, he looked straight at Harry and started to speak.

"It's so good to see you, Mr. Potter, so very good! I was surprised right then, believe me, but now I think on it, it is the right time for you to go to school. Are you eleven then, laddie?"

Harry gaped, and stammered, "W-w-well, not until tomorrow.."

A grin lit Tom's face. "Well how about you stay here for the night! We at the Leaky Cauldron throw a great party. If.. It's okay with your guardian, of course." And he looked at Mrs. Figg.

She seemed to think a bit, and nodded.

"I don't think we'll have any problems with his Aunt and Uncle. In fact, when we're done shopping, I want to talk to you for a little bit, Tom, concerning Harry."

Harry looked at them, a little uneasy, but he was sure he hadn't done anything wrong, and so kept silent.

Tom walked up to the brick wall, took out what looked like a carved stick, and tapped a brick near the center of the wall. Nothing happened at first, and suddenly the bricks started moving away. Harry would have been enraptured by it, but they gave way to something even more thrilling. An entire street, full of bustling people in the strangest clothes he had ever seen.

There were men and women walking by in long robes of many different colors. Black, purple, green, red, and blue all adorned the street, with various oranges and pinks wandering through. The shops were all different sizes, and slanted different directions. Harry could swear they'd all fall down at any moment, except that they all looked so sturdy.

Mrs. Figg took Harry by the hand.

"Come on, we need to get to Gringotts, where your vault is."

Harry was curious, but he couldn't stop looking at everything that was happening. Potage's Cauldron Shop advertized "Cauldrons: Self Stirring, Collapsible, Bronze, Pewter, Gold, All Sizes". Flourish and Blotts had many a book in the windows, and Harry deduced that was where he's be getting his school books. There was a strange building with a funny smell wafting out, and then once called Quidditch Supplies. There was even more of a crowd around this one, and Harry strained his ears to hear what they were saying.

"New Nimbus 2000!..."

"…Fastest broom on the market!"

A racing broom? Harry resolved to ask Mrs. Figg about that.

Wiseacre's Wizarding Equipment and Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions were side by side, and Harry deduced they'd probably be there to get his school uniform. He saw a shop called Eeyelops Owl Emporium and Magical Menagerie that had owls in the windows looking out. There was a white one that caught his eye, before Mrs. Figg pulled him away, and they went inside Gringotts bank.

The first thing Harry Potter noticed about Gringotts was that instead of being wood, like the rest of Diagon alley, it was made of pure marble. "Gringotts" was carved into the building overhead, and there was a rhyme on the door.

_Enter stranger, but take heed  
Of what awaits the sin of greed,  
For those who take, but do not earn  
Must pay most dearly in their turn.  
So if you seek beneath our floors  
A treasure that was never yours,  
Thief, you have been warned; beware  
Of finding more than treasure there._

Harry gulped, and made to enter, but Mrs. Figg held him there a second.

"Gringotts, Harry, is run by goblins. Goblins can be very touchy creatures, and so I must advise you to be on your very best behavior. They do not take lightly to being ignored or not answered promptly, and they are very serious about money. They also look a little… alarming, and so I would also advise you to not stare."

Harry nodded gravely, and Mrs. Figg took his hand, and together they walked inside.

It was a very beautiful building, Harry marveled. The ceiling was high, and there were many chandeliers with candles on them. It was spacious, and his shoes clanked on the marble tile on which he walked. Harry looked at the counters where others were making deposits, and that's when he saw the goblins. They were quite frightening at first, with the hooked noses, and short, but strong and abrasive bodies. As Harry looked closer, however, they began to get more and more interesting. All the goblins were obviously very good at what they did, and it was so much more impressive to handle gold and silver and bronze rather than paper notes at the Muggle banks.

Harry took in the sights as long as he could, before they reached an open teller.

They were in front of a goblin with a rather severe looking face, and he looked at them expectantly.

"Name and business."

Mrs. Figg stepped forward.

"My name is Mrs. Arabella Figg, I am here accompanying Mr. Harry Potter while he makes a withdrawal from his vault."

The goblin looked curiously at Harry, and Harry had the distinct impression he was being read.

"Very well. Mr. Potter, if you will come with me, we shall have to retrieve your vault key."

Harry was let by the goblin to a smaller room, where the goblin stopped him.

"I shall need a piece of your hair to verify that you are Harry James Potter."

Harry nodded, and pulled out a few piece of hair, wincing a little. He handed to the goblin, and then asked, "What is your name?"

The goblin seemed very surprised for a minute, but covered in quickly.

"My name is Griphook."

"Pleased to meet you Mr. Griphook." said Harry, and held out his hand.

Griphook was looking at him interestedly now, and slowly took his hand to shake.

He then put Harry's hair into a strange orange liquid, and it turned blue.

"Very well, Mr. Potter, if you could please wait here a moment."

He left through a door off to the side, but was back quickly.

"Here is your vault key. By all that is gold, don't lose it."

* * *

Harry and Mrs. Figg were now taking a cart ride through the lower levels of Gringotts. It was fun initially, but the wind started to get very cold, and Harry knew already that he did not ever want to do this in the winter. Mrs. Figg looked very pale, and Harry deduced that it must not be fun when you're old, either.

Griphook led them to a vault 6-8-7, and when they clambered out of the Gringotts cart, took Harry's key to unlock the door. Before letting them in, however, he took out a piece of parchment, and began to read.

_The Trust Vault of Mr. Harry James Potter, as set by James and Lily Potter_

_This Trust Vault is hereby made for Harry James Potter by the Will of his Parents, and Hereby states the Following:_

_First (1__st__): Harry Potter is not allowed access to this vault until he has received his letter from school._

_Second (2__nd__): Harry Potter is allowed to withdraw no more than one hundred (100) galleons each year for school supplies._

_Third (3__rd__): Harry Potter is allowed to withdraw no more than fifty (50) galleons each year for entertainment purposes._

_Fourth (4__th__): Harry Potter is not allowed to withdraw money from this vault unless accompanied by an adult, until he turns thirteen (13)._

_Fifth (5__th__): The Trust Fund of Harry Potter is to hold no less than one hundred thousand (100,000) galleons. If this account dips below, money shall be transferred from the Potter Family Vault to make the difference._

Harry's head was whirring. He wasn't sure what a galleon was, but he knew that a hundred thousand of them must be a lot.

Griphook opened the vault, and Harry's eyes went wide. There were stacks of gold and silver and bronze. To think, that the Dursley's always complained of his worthlessness and burden on them, and yet he had heaps of gold in his name under London! He withdrew the full 150 galleons while Griphook explained monetary values to him.

"There are 29 knuts to a sickle. The knuts are the small bronze coins. The sickles are the larger silver coins. There are 17 sickles to one Galleon."  
Harry nodded.

When they finally left Gringotts, Harry's money bag was clattering loudly, and Mrs. Figg was watching him with an amused expression.

"Come on Harry, let's get a cauldron first. We can put everything else in it on the way."

* * *

One size 2 pewter cauldron later, Harry dug around in his pocket for the rest of his school list. Mrs. Figg had taken the letter from the Dursley house when they left, as she had spotted it hidden under a few things on the mantelpiece.

It read:

_**HOGWARTS SCHOOL**__**  
**__**of WHICHCRAFT and WIZARDRY**__**UNIFORM**__**  
**__**First-year students will require:**_

___ sets of plain work robes (black)__  
__ plain pointed hat (black) for day wear__  
__ pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)__  
__ winter cloak (black, with silver fastenings)__  
__Please note that all pupil's clothes should carry name tags._

_**COURSE BOOKS**__**  
**__**All students should have a copy of each of the following:**_

_The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)__  
__by Miranda Goshawk__A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot__Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling__A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch__One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi__  
__by Phyllida Spore__Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger__Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them __  
__by Newt Scamander__The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection__  
__by Quentin Trimble_

_**OTHER EQUIPMENT**__**  
**__  
__1 wand__  
__1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)__  
__1 set glass or crystal phials__  
__1 telescope__  
__1 set brass scales__Students may also bring and owl __**OR**__ a cat __**OR **__a toad._

_****__**PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS**_

Broomsticks! That reminded him.

"Mrs. Figg, what is Quidditch?"

Mrs. Figg laughed.

"Oh Harry, I couldn't explain it if I tried. How about we get a book on it when we get your schoolbooks? That will tell you more than I ever could."

Nodding, Harry looked at his list.

"Could we get those now, Mrs. Figg?"

She smiled, and let the boy to Flourish and Blotts.

* * *

The book store had been incredible. There were books about every subject! There had been books on household spells, cookbooks (magical cookbooks, of course), books of hexes and jinxes, curses and countercurses, magical plants and animals, children stories, seeing into the future, Quidditch, everything. Harry's head was still spinning. He had gotten everything on his school list, plus _Quidditch through the Ages, Hogwarts: A History, _and _Curses and Countercurses. _Harry had to promise Mrs. Figg he wouldn't open it until he got to Hogwarts.

"But I just want to know what they're going to use on me."

Mrs. Figg gave him a very odd sort of look, like she was sad for him, and then led him to Madam Malkin's.

A bustling woman greeted Harry and Mrs. Figg.

"Hello, dear, Hogwarts?"

Harry nodded, and the woman continued.

"Alright, well, if you'll stand over there, I'll take your measurements, alright? Standard black robes?"

Harry nodded again, but Mrs. Figg spoke.

"Could you also take in the clothes he's wearing? They're a little large."

A little large was an understatement. He had been drowning in them all day, although this was nothing new. Madam Malkin looked at them for a solid few seconds, and nodded.

Madam Malkin was working with the materials needed for Harry's robes.

"Three robes, dear, or a little more?"

"Can we have five?" said Harry hopefully. He wanted more to wear at school than just three robes.

"Sure dear," said Madam Malkin, and she waved a wand to summon more fabric.

Harry watched interestedly, and noticed that the tape taking his measurements was doing it itself.

Mrs. Figg came up and told Harry she would be right back.

"I've got to go back to the Leaky Cauldron and talk to Tom. I also need to send your acceptance to Hogwarts. I won't be long, dear."

It took maybe twenty minutes for Madam Malkin to make his robes, and Harry assumed she wouldn't know the first thing about a sewing machine.

When he was paying for his robes, (three galleons, 12, sickles, 4 knuts), another boy walked in. He was a little pudgy, with crooked teeth, but he seemed really nice, and he was accompanied by who must have been his grandmother.

"Neville dear, let's have Madam Malkin alter your robes and hurry, we still need to get your potions ingredients."

She was a very stern looking woman, and the boy named Neville gulped a bit and came next to Harry.

Harry smiled at him.

"Hi, I'm Harry."

Neville looked over at him and managed a bit of a smile.

"I'm Neville Longbottom. I'm here with my Gran. We were here yesterday to get my robes, but they're a little big in the arms.."

"Oh," said Harry.

Madam Malkin finished ringing up Harry, and just then Mrs. Figg came back in.

"I've made arrangements with Tom, Harry. You're to stay in the Leaky Cauldron until September First, when you'll get on the train to Hogwarts at King's Cross. He's promised to not to let slip your last name, so you'll have some privacy."

Neville and his Grandmother looked up at her.

"Your last name, Harry?" Neville asked him.

Harry ducked his head down. "Potter." He mumbled.

Neville was shocked, but his Gran nodded. "I thought so. He looks just like James. With Lily's eyes, of course."

Harry was looking at Neville's grandmother with an expression of disbelief and hope. She had known his parents?

"Could you tell me what they were like?" he asked Mrs. Longbottom.

The look she gave Harry had an expression of sadness.

"I didn't know them very well, boy, I'm sorry. My son and his wife spent a lot of time with them, but I didn't."

At Harry's face, knowing what he was about to ask, she added, "My son and his wife are not able to answer questions due to their part in the war."

"What war?"

At her gaping, Mrs. Figg took over the conversation.

"I'm afraid Harry's been raised by his Aunt and Uncle, and wasn't even aware he was a wizard until a few weeks ago, much less does he have knowledge of the war."

"Why, I never…"

She looked quite angry, and spoke to Harry again.

"I'm sorry boy, I did not realize… well. That this was your situation. You know you're quite famous, though, yes?"

"I…"

Harry had noticed people staring at him, whispering, though he didn't know why. He nodded. "I don't know why, though."

Mrs. Longbottom was looking very irritated, and Neville was shocked. "You really are famous though!" he said. "You're even in books!"

Harry was getting very uncomfortable. What had he done to make himself famous? Especially him, where the only thing he was famous for yesterday was being Dudley's punching bag?

"We need to get a move on, Harry." said Mrs. Figg.

Harry nodded, and they started out of Madam Malkin's, after saying goodbye. Neville had offered to write to Harry until term started.

"If you have an owl, you can write to me first. They know where to go as long as you write the name on the envelope."

Harry had promised to write, and they took their leave of Madam Malkin's.

After their encounter with the Longbottoms, they went to the apothecary (the funny smelling buiding they had passed earlier), and got the ingredients needed for his potions classes.

They went to Wiseacre's and got his phials, telescope, and brass scales. All that was left was…

"A wand."

* * *

They walked into Ollivanders five minutes later, Harry hardly daring to be excited. A magic wand! He could keep Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia and Dudley away from him forever! He probably wasn't going to even be locked in the cupboard anymore, and he started to smile.

They waited in Ollivanders for almost ten minutes, until they heard a bustle in the back. Shortly thereafter, they were greeted by a man with very wild hair, and a very knowing expression in his eyes, which fell upon Harry, and he smiled.

"Ah yes," said the man. "Yes, yes. I thought Id be seeing you soon. Harry Potter." Harry was a bit creeped out. "You have your mothers eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work. Your father, on the other hand, favored a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favored it… It's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course."

Harry was wondering why Mr. Ollivander was telling him this… he didn't think he'd have the same wands as one of them. He didn't… get to live with them enough.

And now Ollivander was looking at his face, looking at the scar. "I sold the wand that did that. Thirteen and a half inches. Yew. It was a very powerful wand and had I known what it was going out to do…" He trailed off, and asked for Harry's dominant arm, and measured it with a tape measure that—yet again—did so itself.

While it did so, Ollivander went towards the back of the store, and began pulling likely wands out . He returned with them, and Harry picked up one. Not a second afterward, Ollivander said "Nope, next!", and Harry picked up another. So the cycle went, until there was a sizeable pile upon the counters, and Harry was beginning to despair. What if a wand didn't choose him? What if he wasn't really a wizard, and they sent him to live with the Dursleys again forever?

"Not to worry, not to worry," Ollivander was saying, as he pulled out more wands. "You're just a tricky customer, little harder to match." He seemed absolutely delighted about it, and went back to get more wands.

"Here, I've gotten a few more, a little harder to pair the cores and woods, these wands, a little more… unusual."

And so Harry tried and tried some more. It was partway into the third armful of Ollivander's wands that Harry picked up a want that sent warmth to his fingertips. He waved it, and a set of sparks came out. Ollivander was smiling, and Mrs. Figg looked relieved.

"Oh excellent, I knew we'd find it eventually. Very curious, though…"

Harry looked expectantly at Ollivander, as he muttered 'curious' to himself.

"What's curious?"

Ollivander looked over at Harry after the question. "I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr. Potter. Every single wand. It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand, gave another feather just one other. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand when its brother, why, its brother gave you that scar."

Harry gulped.

He paid seven galleons for his wand, and exited quietly out of Ollivander's wand shop. They walked back to the Leaky Cauldron, where Tom came up to meet them.

He gave them a toothless grin, and let them up to Harry's room, a number 16.

"You'll be staying in this room for the next month, Harry," said Tom, and he looked like he was about to burst from happiness. "Come in, come in."

* * *

It wasn't a large room by any means, but by Harry's face, it could have been a palace. This was much, much bigger than the cupboard under the stairs, but was a very straightforward room. A bed was in the middle, four poster, adorned by matching blue curtains and sheets. There was a dresser and vanity on one end, and a small door led to a bathroom at the corner. A desk and chair stood on the opposite side of the bedroom from the vanity, and a blue rug completed the room. Not much, but a palace to Harry Potter.

"Thank you!" He said to Tom, who looked ready to burst from happiness.

"It's no problem, boy, no problem! However," and he leaned down to speak lower. "There are conditions. Don't be getting too loud up here, of course. You'll also need to keep it semi-tidy, lad, I only send in housekeeping when you're a customer or staff on the premises. And-" his voice went even lower, "You'd better be telling everyone how much you love it here." He said, and winked.

Harry could only nod, awestruck. He brought in all his school things, and tried to set them out so that it would look like how he imagined a bedroom to be.

Mrs. Figg was watching him set up, amused. She stayed there with him for an hour or so more, but eventually had to go.

"I need to leave now, Harry," she said, and Harry froze for a second. He had intellectually known that he'd be staying here alone, and had been looking forward to it in between all the Diagon Alley shops, but it was a little different when it happened.

"Promise you'll be alright? If you get yourself into trouble, you'll be getting me into trouble too, you hear? Strictly speaking, I probably should not have gotten you out of the house. There are people that might get angry with me for it, so I expect you to be on your best behavior."

Harry nodded somberly.

"I promise."


	3. 3: End of the World as We Know It

**Author's Note: Thank you guys so much for the great reviews! Y'all make a girl feel special.**

**Okay, onto the more important things. I had a review from Katzztar bring up Neville's family life as possibly abusive, although not on Harry's level. I disagree that the hat would catch this and think of it as abuse for this reason: I feel like having a squib in any wizarding family, let alone a pureblood one, is a very real fear. In a pureblood family, I believe that fear would lead them to do some very desperate things to force magic out of their children, including startling them badly, letting their children believe themselves in danger, etc. I think this would be something that is very normal and accepted within wizarding community, and so for the hat to catch it and report it to the Ministry would be ultimately pointless. On top of this, the Longbottoms are not a cruel wizarding family, despite being around as long as the Malfoys, and so it would ultimately not be considered a big deal. If anything, Augusta might receive a letter asking that she be less harsh on her grandson, but that would be the extent. In addition, I believe the accident with Uncle Algie was truly an accident.**

**And to Man of Constant Sorrow wishing this was a HarryxHermione, there are tons of those ships! I don't think HarryxLuna is any less viable, and let's be honest here, any ship worth its salt is written well. I've personally had my OTPs changed due to great storytelling, and I aim for this to be a very realistic (read: slowly developed over many universe years, and with few clichés) ship.**

**Alright, now that this really long AN is done, onto the story!**

Chapter Three: The End of the World as We Know It

Harry woke up that morning not quite remembering that had happened. He was almost sure it was a dream, until moving around a bit didn't bring his hand to the cold wall of the inside of his cupboard. At this, Harry Potter shot out of the covers, and the light filtering from the Leaky Cauldron's window almost blinded him completely. He reached over to the nightstand to grab his glasses and shove them on his face. There was one new thing about his glasses, and it was that they were not held together by scotch tape any longer. This was because Tom had seen them last night and asked the woman in charge of cleaning to mend them. Tom himself, he had relayed to Harry, was not actually that great with magic, or he would be able to run the Leaky Cauldron without any staff at all. He had then winked, and said there would be a cake for him tomorrow when he woke up.

A cake.

It was his birthday today! Harry burst out of bed and pulled one of his new sets of robes on, to blend in better with the people he was around now. Or at least, this was the effect, but he had really done it because they fit him, and he didn't have any other Muggle clothes. His… departing from the Dursleys was rather impromptu. He was glad he asked Madam Malkin for five robes instead of three.

Dressed and able to see, Harry scanned his room, and his eyes landed on his schoolbooks. He'd open them up tonight, he silently swore, and exited the room to find the Leaky Cauldron's kitchen.

Today was an unusual birthday for Harry Potter for more than one reason. True, he had found out he was a wizard, and was now living in a wizarding bar for the next month before starting a school that would teach him magic. True, he now had clothes that fit, though they did give a weird breeze around his legs that he wasn't quite used to. True also, he was now about as rich as an eleven year old could be. Today, however, was singularly unusual in that he found himself rather looking forward to his birthday, because historically, it wasn't a day to look forward to.

A couple of years had been lucky, in that it was a normal day of shouting and labor. He'd been able to escape for an hour or two on the good years, and sing himself a birthday song like the other children in school had gotten. More often, however, Dudley would remember what day it was, and give Harry the gift of a punch in the face. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were even worse, as at that point, he had nonstop labor followed by being locked in the cupboard, so that , he remembered Uncle Vernon saying, "his head didn't get too big".

Harry, however, pushed these thoughts out of his head, and quietly made his way into the kitchen.

He was greeted by the overwhelming smell of breakfast in every direction. The scents of eggs, sausages and toast hit Harry's nose from every direction, and it made his stomach rumble loudly in appreciation.

"Oh, hi there! You must be the kid Tom talked about!" shouted the woman who must have been responsible for all the great smells wafting toward him. As she approached, Harry noticed something very different about her. This was immediately apparent to anyone that saw her also, because in the magical world, for some reason, most witches never did this.

Her hair was dyed a very bright shade of purple.

As she got closer, Harry noticed that she was very young also, not more than twenty.

She giggled a little at Harry's expression.

"Tom hired me for the summer. I just got out of Hogwarts, you know. Graduated near the top of the class! I'm going to be an Auror, once the DMLE gets my N.E.W.T. scores."

She washed her hands very quickly and gave him a handshake. "I'm Tonks."

Harry could only nod and shake her hand back. He wanted to say hi, but what came out instead was,  
"Tonks?"

"Well, it's my last name, really. My first name is truly awful, and I'll never tell you what it is."

Harry didn't know whether or not to laugh, but was saved by his stomach, which at that point had given another rather insistent growl.

Tonks laughed again. "Hungry, are you? You'll have to wait a second while I make you something, these are all orders."

Harry nodded, and sat on a stool in the kitchen while Tonks worked.

"So, what'll it be, Harry?"

His look of surprise sent the purple haired witch into another fit of laughter.

"Didn't I just say Tom told me about you? Don't worry, I won't say anything when there are other people around. Tom would have my hide if I did."

Harry tried to imagine Tom being angry, and decided that Tonks was probably just playing around.

"Well?"

"Oh, uh, I'd like some of everything."

Tonks looked him up and down. "How about I give you a double of everything, and you promise you'll eat it all?"

* * *

After a very large breakfast, Harry Potter decided to explore the Leaky Cauldron. Despite being famous, there wasn't much of it. There was the main room where food and things called Butterbeer and Firewhiskey were served, and this was usually occupied at all times. There were two or three side rooms, where people who wanted some privacy asked to be sat, and then there were the rooms upstairs, maybe ten or so. There was also a rather large office on the top floor, and Harry supposed it was only used when important things were being done.

The day went by quickly. Harry had explored the entirety of the Leaky Cauldron by around noon, and spent the next few hours helping Tonks with food orders. This was rather helpful for her, as she was actually rather clumsy, and at one point knocked over and entire pot of soup. It was during this time that Harry began asking the questions that had been burning in the back of his mind.

"Tonks?"

"Hm, Harry?" she had asked absentmindedly, turning out a plate full of potatoes absolutely drenched in butter.

"Why am I so famous? Does it have to do with why my parents are dead?"

Tonks paused at that, and looked at Harry, with an expression that Harry supposed resembled sadness for him.

"Yes, it does. It will take a long time to explain though, Harry. How about I tell you after our little party?"

Harry nodded his assent, and began to pace around the kitchen. Tonks looked at him a bit more, and then finished up the orders.

"Harry, lunch rush is finished, and we have maybe another hour until the dinner rush starts. Do you want to go into Diagon Alley and get some ice cream? Florean Fortescue's is the best."

Harry jumped at the idea.

* * *

One ice cream later, Harry and Tonks were sitting outside eating their ice cream in the pleasant air, watching people go about shopping. It seemed to be very busy, and Harry was glad he had done it yesterday. About fifteen minutes into their ice creams, the crowd let up enough that Harry could see across the Alley to Eeyelops, and there again he saw a flash of brilliant white.

"Hey Tonks, can we go to that store over there?" said Harry, pointing towards Eeyelops.

"Oh, didn't get an animal in all that ruckus yesterday, did you?"

"No," said Harry regretfully.

Tonks smiled. "I can't imagine what Hogwarts would have been like if I hadn't had my cat. Sure! We'll have to make it quick though, I told Tom we'd be back by the dinner rush."

Harry and Tonks walked into Eeyelops Owl Emporium and Magical Menagerie about five minutes later. Truth be told, they didn't need to walk in the find an animal, just to purchase one, because Harry had found that the brilliant flash of white was none other than a beautiful snowy owl in the window. He had set one look on her and immediately knew what he wanted, and no amount of effort from Tonks to get him to get a cat could convince him otherwise.

When he got up to the counter to pay, however, Tonks cut him off.

"It's your birthday, kid! It's not every day you turn eleven. My present to you."

And she paid two galleons, seven sickles, and fourteen bronze knuts for Harry's new owl.

"What are you going to name her?" she had asked after they left for the Leaky Cauldron, the new owl on Harry's arm.

Harry didn't know, but resolved to find a name that was magical. He didn't want anything ordinary for the beautiful snowy owl.

* * *

At ten that night, business at the Leaky Cauldron finally slowed down enough that Tom and Tonks could slip away to give Harry his cake and a song.

Tonks was very proud of this cake, and with good reason. Standing at an impressive four layers, each layer had a different flavor base and icing; vanilla, chocolate, strawberry, and banana by order. While she hadn't had the time to decorate it extravagantly, the words "Happy Birthday, Harry!" adorned the top, and eleven candles (each with a different color flame) lined the sides. All in all, a cake more impressive than Harry ever thought he would get. A round of "Happy Birthday to You" went by, and Harry, feeling happier than he ever thought he would, blew out the candles, that proceeded to burst apart into mini fireworks. Tonks had sent him a wink and thumbs up when his surprised face met hers.

Tom left to see to the last of his customers and settle in anyone renting a room, while Tonks sat with Harry eating cake.

"That charm I put on your candles was my own little invention, actually. All I did was edit the words to an explosive spell, and set it to go off when the flame went out."

"You can do that?"

"Yeah," said Tonks. "I didn't graduate top of my class for nothing. Of course, I put in all that work because I want to be an Auror, not for candles."

"What's an Auror?"

"Dark wizard catcher. They're like the Muggle military, but a lot more powerful and smart. They go around catching dark wizards, who disobey the Ministry laws. They got a lot of use during the war, and after, from catching You- Know- Who's followers."

This, Harry decided, was the perfect time to ask again.

"Why am I famous, Tonks?"

She momentarily closed her eyes, and shook her purple hair.

"I'll go ahead and tell you, but you can stop me anytime you want, if it gets too heavy, okay?"

Harry nodded, and she continued.

"Around twenty years ago, this wizard surfaced. Nobody's really sure from where, except maybe Dumbledore, but it isn't really important. What is important, is that he didn't show up for being a good guy, you know? They say he looked pallid, not human, like all of his face was made out of wax and someone didn't form them properly. I never saw him of course, I wasn't born until two years after he came around. My mum did though.

"My mum's sisters, Bellatrix and Narcissa, they were married to some of his followers. Bellatrix was one of them herself. My mum says that Bellatrix wasn't ever really sane, and I believe her, from the things I know she's done in the war…

"Anyway, this wizard, he was evil. He called himself a very odd name, and started spouting off Salazar Slytherin propaganda, telling people that Muggleborn witches and wizards shouldn't be around. That they were less than human, like animals. Then, he started doing worse. People started disappearing, and the people that came back weren't alive anymore. It was mostly Muggleborns at first-" -Tonk's eyes flashed a different color, like she was angry- "But then people who spoke out against him started disappearing , too. After a few months, the Ministry declared war on this guy.

"Well, it didn't go well at first. In fact, it didn't go well at all. There are a lot of Pureblood families- families that have only been witches and wizards for as long back as anyone can trace and then some- who agreed with him. They thought this guy was the ticket to making sure that non- magic people never found out about them again. They kept agreeing with new extremes though. That Muggles were animals. That anyone who couldn't do magic should be slaves. That witches and wizards who came from Muggles had stolen magic and should be put to death.

"Now… here's the thing. Something happened, nobody's sure what, where You-Know- Who came after your parents, Harry, and he came after you. Dumbledore said that your parents had been betrayed out of hiding by a friend, and You- Know- Who found you guys. He- he killed your dad, and then your mum. But- when he tried to kill you, he couldn't. Something happened, and nobody really knows what, but when You- Know- Who tried to kill you, the curse he used hit him instead.

"Harry, you're famous, cause the most powerful dark wizard of all time tried to kill you and failed. He died, and you're here instead."

Harry's head was spinning. A dark wizard had tried to kill him? Had killed his parents? He wanted to ask so many questions, and try to absorb it all, but all that came out was a stuttered, "M-m-my Aunt and Uncle.. said my parents died in a.. a car crash.."

It was all Tonks could do to keep the irritation showing in her face. "A car crash? Kill Lily and James Potter? I'd be more likely to keep my hair black."

Harry, although still having this new information roll around in his head, couldn't help it. "Why is your hair purple?"

Tonks grinned, happy for the change of subject. "Want me to tell you a secret?" She leaned in closer. "I'm a Metamorphmagus. I can change my appearance at will, to almost anything I want."

And she turned her nose into a pig snout.

"Whoa!"

"Yep." She smiled. "I'll get top notch in Concealment and Disguise, for sure."

"Lowest in stealth though."

"Oh you little brat," she said, and shoved cake in his nose.

* * *

That month passed quicker than Harry would have thought possible. After his birthday, he spent his time helping Tonks in the kitchen, peeking at the customers, writing to Neville, and studying his new schoolbooks.

The first book he had opened was "A History of Magic", because Harry wanted to know everything he could about this new world he had apparently always been a part of. He read of Eric the Oddball and Uric the Evil, the Goblin Wars, and the Witch Burnings. That particular section had not surprised him one bit. He had doubted even when he didn't know about witches and wizards that any real magical person would let themselves get burned to death at a stake.

It was in that book he came across the name 'Hedwig'. Harry liked it. He wasn't sure why, but it resonated with him, and decided that it would be his owl's name.

And so Hedwig the owl was named.

He opened his other books also, just to get an idea of his classes. From them, he gathered magic wasn't just waving his wand around and saying some funny words. In fact, he'd had to work and practice for almost a day before he managed to do a 'reparir' spell.

Once he'd managed it, he brought Tonks up to his room to show her proudly, as he fixed the crack he'd put in the wash basin after he'd dropped it.

"That's great, Harry!" She'd said happily. "I'm proud of you! I have to warn you though, there's something called a Trace on underage wizards. When you do magic, the Ministry knows. You won't be allowed to do magic outside of school after you go there, or you'll be expelled."

Harry had gulped. "Am I in trouble now?"

"No. You haven't been to school yet, and you can't do any real damage. In fact-" she leaned in closer, "The Ministry can't tell who did the magic around an underage kid, just that there was magic done. They probably get hits on you all the time, since you're around us. You can practice as much as you want right now."

And so Harry managed to master a few spells before he started school. 'Lumos' and it's counterspell, a small flame spell, and one that Tonks taught him herself, which took a whole week to master.

"Now, don't tell anyone I taught you this, okay? Eleven year olds don't need to know how to be unlocking doors. It's in your Standard Book of Spells, but none of the teachers there will teach it. I think its fun though, and it might be useful to you for something, God knows what, but something.

"Now, repeat after me. A-lo-ho-mo-ra".

"A-lo-ho-mo-ra."

"Good. Now, again. Alohomora."

"Alohomora."

She smiled. "That will unlock any doors that don't have a special spell on them. It won't work in your Hogwarts dormitories, so if you decide to sneak into the girl's dormitory when you're older, (Harry made a face) it won't work. Got it?"

"Got it."

"Now, practice practice. I don't expect you to get it until the end of the summer, but if you do, I'll be very happy with you. Alright?"

"Alright," said Harry, grinning, and Tonks was indeed happy when Harry was able to unlock the kitchen door a week later.

Tonks was what Harry imagined having a fun older sister would have been like. He'd said as much to Neville in his letters, and Neville had replied back, wishing he'd also had an older student to teach him magic in a fun way, too. Neville's grandmother had been trying to teach him spells, but Neville wrote that his Gran was very boring and strict, and didn't explain any of the theories, while Tonks did. Harry had promised to try and show Neville how to do the spells he'd learned.

Two days before September 1st, there was a very audible whoop from the kitchen, and a minute later a very excited purple haired witch slammed open Harry's door, a look of pure joy on her face.

"I've been accepted into the Auror program! They got my grades two weeks ago, and they were good, but Aurors don't always care, you know, you have to be talented in other ways, too, but I got in! I'm going to be an Auror!

She had said all of this in a rush, so that if Harry hadn't known what she was talking about, he wouldn't have understood a word. Even so, all he caught was 'Auror' a lot, along with 'grades' and 'I'. Harry knew what happened though, and jumped off the bed to give her a hug.

Hugs were something that Harry had never been used to. He had never been hugged by his Aunt or Uncle, and didn't remember a time where it happened at all. It had been a surprise when Tonks did it to Harry the first time, and he had stiffened visibly. Tonks had only smiled and continued to give them, until Harry relaxed and let it happen, and now he even returned them.

At this moment, there was an audible _crack,_ and a woman appeared in Harry's room so suddenly that he almost fell over.

"Congratulations Nymphadora dear! Your father and I knew you'd get in."

And the strange woman hugged a very stiff, slowly more frozen Tonks.

"Don't. Call. Me. That. Mum."

"Oh, right, I forgot about your silly dislike of your name. You really should learn to like it girl, that name isn't going anywhere."

"Maybe you should have picked a better name."

"Oh honestly."

Harry stood frozen, not sure whether to laugh or call for help. It was at this moment that the woman noticed him.

"Who's this, dear?"

Tonks looked questioningly at Harry, and he gave a nod.

"That's Harry Potter, mum. He's been staying here at the Cauldron, and I've been looking after him."

"Hi."

Tonks' mum looked so surprised she might have been petrified.

"Oh! Well, hello there dear. My name is Andromeda Tonks. I'm glad to see and meet you." She shook his hand and smiled, then turned back to Tonks.

"I need to get back to St. Mungo's now, Dora. I just wanted to congratulate you. See you tonight!"

And with another _crack_, Andromeda Tonks disappeared.

Silence, and then-

"If you ever, ever call me Nymphadora, Harry, you won't be the Boy Who Lived anymore."

* * *

September 1st arrived, and Tonks got the day off from Tom to see Harry to "Platform 9 ¾".

They were running rather late, as Harry had slept in, and Tonks hadn't noticed the time passing while she packed up his supplies.

"Where is this platform, Tonks?"

"It's concealed, so the Muggles don't notice. There's a brick wall between Platform 9 and Platform 10, and all you do is run right into the wall. I'll go with you, that way it's not so scary the next time. Okay?"

He nodded, and they came to the platform at the same time as a family of redheads.

"-packed with Muggles of course-"

Harry was going to ask Tonks if they were wizards, too, but when he turned, Tonks was bent over double laughing.

"What's funny?" asked Harry, wondering if he had missed something, but Tonks kept laughing.

"That's Percy, and he's been.. Oh, Merlin.. hahahaha!" and she laughed for another minute.

"So they're wizards, too?"

Tonks, who was almost crying at this point, could only nod, and she steered them through the brick wall.

Harry was too surprised to think they would crash, but he was still in awe of the newly revealed Platform in front of them. A very large red train with the words 'Hogwarts Express' waited in front of them, and there was a very large crowd of bustling people. A large clock near them read 10:40.

"Sorry, Harry," said Tonks, who was now recovering from her episode. "I couldn't help it. The redheads are the Weasleys, and the oldest of the ones you saw was Percy. He's a few years younger than me, and oh! His brother Charlie and I used to play the best pranks on him, you should have seen-" she cut off chortling a bit, and continued. "Anyway, he's been made a prefect, apparently, and I couldn't help but laugh. That pompous little git's going to have a time of it, that's for sure."

She led him to one of the doors of the train, and picked up his trunk, before they were stopped.

"Nymphadora Tonks, as I recall, you were a 7th year last year. Did you flunk?"

They both turned to see Percy Weasley glaring at them, and Tonks, rather than laugh, flicked her wand at Percy, and he suddenly began dancing uncontrollably. Harry dissolved into giggles, and Tonks had a rather sour expression on her face.

"Did getting a badge somehow make you think you were safe from the consequences of that word, Weasley? If you'll recall, I did graduate, topping your brother in fact, so I'm not sure why you'd be brave enough to do that again."

There was a crowd now, as students flocked to see their new prefect bewitched before term even started.

Tonks turned her attention back to Harry's trunk, and together they found him a compartment.

"Don't worry about the trunk when you get there. They will be taken up to your dormitory for you, alright? Make sure you change into your robes before you arrive. Oh, and whatever you do, don't get on the bad side of Filch or Peeves or the Weasley tw-"

Harry decided the name Weasley summoned them, because at that moment, two redheaded boys who looked exactly the same popped their heads in.

"Is that-"

"-our favorite honorary sibling-"

"-Tonks the magnificent?"

She straightened and smiled. "Hello boys! How'd you know where I was?"

"Are you kidding?"

"Your dancing jinx-"

"-is the most well known-"

"-and hilarious-"

"jinx of all time!"

"Plus, you did it to Percy-"

"-and you're the only one that ever dares to mess with him."

"Besides us, of course."

Tonks smiled. "You're right, as usual. I was just here accompanying Harry onto the train."

She turned to Harry and brought him forward a little. "Harry, this is Fred and George, Hogwarts' most well-known two trouble makers, now that Charlie and I have graduated."

"Harry?" Asked one.

"As in, Harry Potter?" said the other. And together, their faces went from surprise to pure mischief.

"Oh, you wait until it gets out that Percy pissed off Harry Potter's escort."

"He's never going to be obeyed again."

"If he ever would have been."

And they left the compartment. Tonks could only sigh.

"Those two…"

There was a whistle from the train, and Tonks jumped.

"Oh, Merlin, you're about to leave, and I need to get off the train. Here…"

She finished shoving Harry's trunk onto the shelves above them.

"Okay, you're a first year, so you're going to go to Hogwarts by boat. Just listen to whoever's taking you, and don't make too much trouble. At least… not at first."

She gave a wink, and then began to leave, but Harry gave her a hug first. Tonks hugged him back in an encouraging sort of way.

"I really have to go now, Harry. Write to me, alright?"

Harry nodded, and with that, Tonks disappeared from the train.

* * *

The train ride was largely uneventful. Harry got a few of every sweet when the snack trolley came by, as he didn't want to miss anything, but it wasn't very interesting until a girl came into his compartment, along with-

"Neville!" said Harry happily.

"Hi, Harry," said Neville, brightening his rather sad looking face immediately.

"What's wrong?"

"Oh, I… I lost my toad, Trevor. Hermione was helping me look for him." And he gestured to the girl standing next to him.

Harry looked at Hermione. She was a little taller than him, with bushy brown hair, and very large front teeth. She was also already changed into her school robes.

Harry decided that he might as well get the introductions over with.

"Hi, I'm Harry Potter."

"Oh are you really? I've read about you! You're in _Modern Magical History_, and _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_ and _Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century_!

She said all of this very fast.

"Am I?" asked Harry, dazed. He wished he'd gotten those books now, just to know what they said about him.

"Goodness, didn't you know? I'd have found out everything I could if it was me." Said Hermione. "Do you know what House you'll be in? I've been asking around, and I hope I'm in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best; I hear Dumbledore himself was in it, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad…"

She trailed off.

"Well, I don't know what House I'll be in, but if it was that important, I'm sure I would know about it by now, said Harry.

Hermione nodded slowly. "I guess so.."

Neville had been getting steadily more antsy the whole time.

"Guys, we need to find my toad…"

"What if we found an older student? I bet they'd know a spell that makes him come back." Said Harry.

Hermione looked furious with herself.

* * *

They managed to find an older student to help. The boy had a yellow tie, and they had no sooner asked him about Neville's toad than he had said "Accio Trevor", and the toad zoomed towards them, and he sent them off with a smile.

"I didn't even get his name." pouted Hermione, as they returned to their compartment.

* * *

They passed the rest of the time on the train talking. Hermione talked about her parents, who were dentists, and her life before she got the letter, which interested Neville. Neville then talked his family. He hadn't given very many signs of magic, and his family thought he was a squib, right up until he was accidentally dropped out of a window by his uncle. They'd been so happy that he'd got the letter that he'd been given his toad. Harry, in turn described the last month of his summer, and no more. He hadn't wanted any of them to know about the Dursleys, and so he made sure to not mention them.

Soon, the train stopped, and they all got up. There was an announcement through the train to leave their trunks, that they'd be brought up to their bedrooms later.

When they got off the train, they were greeted by the largest man Harry had ever seen. He was at least nine feet tall, and wide, with e large busy black beard that covered most of his face, except for a pair of beady black eyes. His voice was very loud.

"Firs' years! Firs' years, over here, to me!"

When Harry, Neville, Hermione, and the other kids gathered around, the giant man led them to an area where boats were.

"No more'n four to a boat!" he shouted. A redhead joined in his boat, and Harry supposed he was a Weasley, too. The giant man took a whole boat to himself. On each boat was a lantern, and at first, it was very dark over the water. Then they rounded a curb- and the most beautiful thing Harry had ever seen came into view. It was a giant castle, with almost every window lit. It sent reflections all through the lake, which is what Harry realized the body of water was. Perched on top of a hill against the starry night sky, it was the most breathtaking view that Harry could have ever gotten. He was not the only one, he noticed. All the other children had the same awestruck look on their face, including a white haired boy that struck Harry as very hoity-toity.

It took another ten minutes to sail the length of the lake to the castle. When they reached the other side, they climbed over the boat sides, and the boats began sailing by themselves back across the lake. In fact, Harry realized, they'd been sailing by themselves to carry them over the lake.

"Firs' years, follow me!" said the giant man again, and he led them up to a giant door, and knocked upon it.

* * *

Hagrid had passed them off to a very severe looking woman, named Professor McGonagall. She led them through the corridors of the castle until they came across a set of very impressive double doors, but led them into a room on the side, away from the droning voices where the other students must have been.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your Houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your House will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your House, sleep in your House dormitory, and spend free time in your House common room.

"The four Houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each House has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your House points, while any rule-breaking will lose House points. At the end of the year, the House with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever House becomes yours.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

Her eyes lingered on Neville's cloak, which was fastened under his ear, and upon the Weasley, who Harry realized had dirt on his nose. Harry decided to try and flatten his hair a little.

"I shall return when we are ready for you." And with that, she left them in the room.

Harry was nervous. They were going to take some sort of test, he knew it. What if the magic that he'd practiced over the summer wasn't good enough to pass?

There was muttering all over the group, and Hermione said "What sort of thing are they going to do?"

The Weasley boy spoke up. "My brother Fred says that it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking."

This only served to make them more nervous, and less than a second later someone screamed. Harry jumped and turned around, so see silver white mist in the shapes of people. They appeared to be arguing about someone called 'Peeves', but stopped when they noticed the first years. Someone resembling an old fat monk smiled.

"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff! My old house, you know."

The white-haired boy Harry noticed earlier snorted, but at that moment, Professor McGonagall returned.

"Move along," she said to the ghosts, and when they left through the wall opposite them, she ordered everyone to form a line and follow her.

* * *

They were led in front of the school, and an old frayed hat was placed on a stool in front of them. Nervous, Harry looked around, and saw the Weasley twins in the corner, smiling at him. Slightly more encouraged, he looked up just in time to see the hat rip open and burst into song.

_Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,_

_But don't judge on what you see,_

_I'll eat myself if you can find_

_A smarter hat than me._

_You can keep your bowlers black,_

_Your top hats sleek and tall,_

_For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_

_And I can cap them all._

_There's nothing hidden in your head_

_The Sorting Hat can't see,_

_So try me on and I will tell you_

_Where you ought to be._

_You might belong in Gryffindor,_

_Where dwell the brave at heart,_

_Their daring, nerve, and chivalry Set Gryffindors apart;_

_You might belong in Hufflepuff,_

_Where they are just and loyal,_

_Those patient Hufflepuffs are true_

_And unafraid of toil;_

_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_

_If you've a ready mind,_

_Where those of wit and learning,_

_Will always find their kind;_

_Or perhaps in Slytherin_

_You'll make your real friends,_

_Those cunning folk use any means_

_To achieve their ends._

_So put me on! Don't be afraid!_

_And dont get in a flap!_

_Youre in safe hands (though I have none)_

_For I'm a Thinking Cap!_

Everyone burst into applause, and Harry felt relief flood him. They only tried on a hat!

Professor McGonagall was calling out the student names, and Harry heard both "Abbott, Hannah" and "Bones, Susan" become Hufflepuffs.

"Boot, Terry" was a Ravenclaw, and so was "Brocklehurst, Mandy".

Gryffindor got its first new housemate with "Brown, Lavendar", and "Bulstrode, Millicent" became a Slytherin.

Harry was getting sick now. What if he wasn't chosen, and they sent him back to the Dursleys and didn't let him use magic before he even learned about it? Maybe he'd run away, he thought wildly. He'd go and live with Tonks and help her catch bad wizards in secret.

"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!"  
HUFFLEPUFF.

"Finnigan, Seamus!"

Harry noticed that it took longer to sort some students than others.

"Granger, Hermione!"

The girl next to Harry had to visibly keep herself under control. After a little less than fifteen seconds, it shouted GRYFFINDOR, and she looked visibly pleased with herself.

A few more students, and Neville was called. Harry gave him a reassuring sort of glance, and Neville went up. It took almost three minutes to sort Neville, and his face looked a little ashen afterwards. In fact, he was so absorbed that he forgot to take off the hat, and had to walk it back to Professor McGonagall while the school laughed. Harry cringed inwardly for him.

"Malfoy, Draco" was called, and he swaggered up to the hat, barely touched before it screamed SLYTHERIN.

There weren't many students now, and they went through quickly. Finally, after "Perks, Sally-Anne"…

"Potter, Harry!"

There was a quiet uproar as Harry stepped up to be sorted. He saw people crowd to see him, and then the black of the hat.

It was silent, at first, and then he felt the hat go through his head, looking as his life, and he was struck with fear. What if the hat saw what happened at the Dursleys?

And it did. And the Sorting Hat was furious.

Almost seven minutes went by. and then instead of calling a House, the hat said instead:

THE SORTING IS TO BE TEMPORARILY SUSPENDED UNTIL THE ARRIVAL OF AN AGENT OF THE DEPARTMENT OF MAGIC LAW ENFORCEMENT, AND A HEALER FROM ST. MUNGO'S HOSPITAL FOR MAGICAL MALADIES AND INJURIES. HEADMASTER ALBUS DUMBLEDORE AND DEPUTY HEADMISTRESS MINERVA MCGONAGALL WILL TAKE HARRY POTTER WITH THEM TO CONVENE IN THE HEADMASTER'S OFFICE, UNTIL SUCH A TIME AS THE DMLE AND HEALERS ARRIVE.

For the first time in history, the Great Hall was completely silent.

The Hat spoke to Harry, then, in his head, so that no one else could hear it.

"Don't worry boy, you'll be alright from now on."


	4. 4: Ten Years of Planning

**A/N: Sorry for not specifying Neville's house last chapter! It is Gryffindor. Much like one reviewer was saying, all the sorting ceremonies get to you after awhile, and you just skip information that is there all the time. But there is my verification! I'll go back through and change it later.**

**Now, I have to preface this. I have never really liked Dumbledore. He's an excellent character; well-written, cunning, etc., but let's face it. He's a conniving, plotting jerk, and he treats people as pawns in his little schemes. I'm one of those people that believe Dumbledore knew Sirius was innocent (because again, Dumbledore is not stupid), but either didn't feel like getting him out of prison because it wouldn't serve a purpose, or because Harry would live with Sirius and therefore not with the Dursleys. I'm also of the firm belief that Dumbledore knew **_**exactly **_**what he was putting Harry into when he dropped him off at Little Whinging. Dumbledore is not among my favorite characters, and so if I am unusually cruel to him in this and the following chapters, well, I think it's completely justified.**

**Someone asked why Harry needs so many Galleons in his vault: he doesn't need it. He, however, comes from a very old, very rich pureblood family, and James was the Golden Child, so of course he threw in a hundred thousand Galleons into Harry's Trust Vault. Why not?**

**A Hatstall is when the Sorting Hat is unable to choose between two Houses for a student, since they are so alike to each house.**

**I've changed the rating in anticipation of future chapters (not soon) which will have a little darker subject matter, although it's not like this is the greatest subject matter for all ages either. Abuse kinda sucks.**

**Onto the story!**

Chapter 4: Ten Years of Planning

There was silence in the Great Hall of Hogwarts. Each student was staring unashamedly at Harry Potter, who, at the direction of the Sorting Hat, got up from the stool and followed Professor McGonagall and Professor Dumbledore.

Dumbledore, at the first four minutes of Harry's Sorting, had been marginally impressed, as he thought the reason for such a long time was a Hatstall. But as five minutes, and then six, had dragged by, he became irritated, and mildly fearful for an unknown reason. At seven minutes, when the Sorting Hat gave its announcement, Albus Dumbledore felt nothing but shock, which slowly turned to anger. This was not part of the plan. Harry should have been sorted into Gryffindor, joined his table, and slowly been introduced into his plans for bringing Harry into the end goal. This… this could prove the undoing of a plan laid into effect almost ten years ago, when he had set the boy on his Aunt and Uncle's doorstep.

He showed none of this in his mannerisms toward Minerva and Harry. They would not know this.

* * *

Professor Dumbledore led Harry and McGonagall towards a large statue of a Gargoyle, and said "Sherbet Lemon".

It stepped aside, and revealed a continuous revolving staircase, that led them up to a room that Harry would have been very interested in, except for the current situation. The walls were decorated with portraits that seemed to be sleeping, and the tables contained obscure and interesting objects that spun, or whizzed, or did some odd thing or another. Harry's attention, however, was on the fireplace. About a minute after they arrived, the flames became green, and four people whirred out.

Two women were dressed in lime green robes that swept across the floor as they walked. A third woman was in robes as black as night, and she carried an air of professionalism, as well as an image of authority. It was plain to Harry that she must be some sort of Ministry Official. The fourth was a younger, dark man who also looked very professional, though not quite as hard around the edges.

"Amelia Bones, head of the Department for Magical Law Enforcement, accompanied by Kingsley Shacklebolt, Auror." said the woman in black robes, gesturing with her hand towards the man identified as Kingsley.

"Healer Anne MacMillan."

"Healer Gretchen Burke."

"Excellent." Said the Hogwarts Sorting Hat, and all but Dumbledore and the Aurors jumped. "We're all here.

"Approximately twenty minutes ago, Unmovable papers appeared upon the desks of the head of the DMLE, and the Head of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. This paper, first and foremost, detailed an older part of my Lore, that if a student came to Hogwarts exceptionally abused and neglected by His or Her household, an inquiry was to be made, and the student shall receive medical attention.

"It then went on to detail that such a case has been brought before us, and that until it was taken on by the DMLE and Healers, not only will the Sorting of new students not continue, but the papers on the desks of these Departments will remain Unmovable, disallowing access to any other documents.

"I present to you, our case. Harry James Potter."

If the four new arrivals had been startled before, they were shocked now.

"Shacklebolt?" asked the sorting hat, and the young man stepped forward.

"I remember you. Promising young Ravenclaw. If you would, please take me off of Mr. Potter's head, and place me upon the Pensieve."

He did so. If he was surprised at this interesting accumulation of events, he did not show it.

"Now, remove me and place me on the table, Mr. Shacklebolt."

When his orders were followed, the Sorting Hat spoke again.

"Healers MacMillan and Burke, please place your heads in the Pensieve. You will be needed first. If Mr. Shacklebolt and Head Auror Bones will do so afterwards, we can get on with the night.

* * *

Harry was rooted to the spot. He hadn't wanted anyone to know… He was ashamed. Ashamed that he had grown up so differently, that he had been beaten, that he hadn't been able to do anything about it. His doubts came back tenfold. Surely he wasn't really a wizard if those things could happen to him?

When the Healer's heads came up, they looked at him, horrified, and Harry's feelings sank lower. What would they do to him now? What if they decided someone who went through what he did wasn't allowed to go to Hogwarts?

"I presume you've seen why you were notified?" Asked the Sorting Hat, and Healer Burke nodded dumbly.

"Excellent. Now, the Aurors."

Harry wanted to sink into the floor.

* * *

The Aurors looked at the memories twice. It was their job, they had said, to fully document this type of crime, and to have all the facts before they could persecute.

The Hat then asked Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall to view the memories. Dumbledore had pointedly refused, but McGonagall saw them. She looked angry when she came out of the Pensieve, for a quickly known reason.

"When we left Harry on that doorstep, Albus, I was given knowledge that he would grow up better than in a wizarding household. Is THIS what you call better, Albus? Is it? He would have grown up with fame here, but that is surely better than being beaten and starved within an inch of his life. We do not treat children that way!"

Madam Bones' eyes flashed.

"So it was Albus Dumbledore that left Harry on that doorstep, was it? It seems that not just these Muggles will be investigated. Professor McGonagall, I'm afraid we will have to ask for your memory of Harry's placement upon these Muggles."

McGonagall nodded, and she withdrew a silvery strand with her wand from her temple, and placed it into a vial she conjured.

"Very well. This investigation begins immediately."

* * *

The twenty minute delay in the Sorting was brought to an end, when Harry and Professor McGonagall walked into the Great Hall, rather noticeably without the Headmaster.

Harry was placed back on the stool, with the Hat on his head, and it spoke to him again.

"I've already an idea where to put you, but I want your opinion last. Where do you want to go?"

It was the first time since this entire fiasco started that Harry Potter had been asked his opinion, and he relished it.

"I want to go where I'm never a victim again."

He felt a nod from the Hat.

GRYFFINDOR.

* * *

Harry did not stay to hear the rest of the Sorting. He had to walk out of the Great Hall again, while trying to avoid the stares from the other students, to the Hospital Wing. The Healers were waiting just outside the Great Hall for him, and together they walked along long corridors, until they came to a rather large room that looked very much like what he thought a Hospital Wing would look like.

"Alright, Harry," said Healer MacMillan. "We're going to begin testing you, to see the damage. Some of the spells are going to make you feel very warm, some of them will cause a bit of shaking, and one causes a tickling sensation under your left big toe. Ready?"

Harry nodded, and together they began casting spells on him.

* * *

It took two hours. The Healers gave nothing away on their faces, and at the end, Harry was given a large amount of food and escorted to the Gryffindor common room by McGonagall, who arrived some fifteen minutes previously. He arrived later than all the other students, and there were stares as he entered the common room.

"Return to what you were doing," said Professor McGonagall sternly, and they reluctantly tore their eyes away from Harry, except for two.

"Hey Harry!" said a Weasley twin, as they both jumped out of their seats.

"Knew you'd make in Gryffindor!" said the other, and they both grinned.

"Did I not just say to return to your previous attention holders?"

"Oh come on McGonagall, we'll look out for him!"

"Tonks would kill us if we didn't."

"Besides, you don't want us to do what we were doing, it might have included plans to hex Percy-"

"And who knows what that would have done to the last bit of his dignity on only the first day of school-"

McGonagall looked mutinous.

"You will find something else to focus your attention on, and if I hear that your new Prefect has had anything happen to him between now and next Saturday-"

"You'll give us detention?" asked the twins in unison.

"I will write to your mother."

The twins' eyes went wide, and they hastily scrambled off somewhere else, presumably to cause some sort of mayhem.

McGonagall shook her head, and let Harry on through the common room, up to two sets of stairs, of which they took the left.

"The right stairs are the girls' dormitories. You won't be able to go through them."

Harry nodded.

"Your dormitories are here. From the trunks, I presume your bed is second from the left. The restroom is to your right."

Harry nodded again.

"Harry."

Harry looked up at McGonagall, who, for all her strength and sternness, was looking quite worn. Her eyes were sad, and filled with what was probably regret.

"I am sorry. If I had known, if any of us… it would not have continued." She pursed her lips, the line causing them to disappear almost entirely. "Your classes will start tomorrow, but before breakfast, I want you to come to my office tomorrow morning. Some special provisions have been made for you."

She gave Harry a tight, reassuring sort of smile, and left him in the dorm to his thoughts.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore was not pleased. No, not at all. In three short hours, ten years of planning had been shot down. And why, because of some arbitrary magic in the Sorting Hat? No doubt that Hufflepuff had put that little piece of magic and requirements in the Hat.

To add to everything, he was no longer in Hogwarts. In fact, he was in the Ministry of Magic. Worse, he was upon the trial seat in a Wizengamot courtoom. It would take cunning and resourcefulness to get out of this one while retaining full Headmaster privileges. Dumbledore scoffed inside. Traits of a Slytherin. He despised Slytherins. But oh, he could play the part well.

* * *

"Order, order." Said Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge.

"We are gathered tonight on such short notice, ladies and gentlemen of the Wizengamot, to discuss the circumstances of a letter that appeared upon the desk of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement at approximately 7:23 this evening. This letter concerned a student that came to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, who has suffered through cruel and unusual punishments in the home he was placed by Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. This child was none other than Harry James Potter."

A gasp and collective murmur rose among the Wizengamot. Their attention was fixed upon Dumbledore, who began to feel slightly concerned.

"Amelia Bones and Kingsley Shacklebolt arrived at Hogwarts at 7:45 in the evening, to investigate the situation."

Two people stood up then, both in full Auror uniform. They were an impressive sight, and the respect among the Wizengamot for them was almost felt in the air.

"They were met at the school by Healers Anne MacMillan and Gretchen Burke, who had been informed at St. Mungoes at precisely the same time."

The two women stood up, though they did not need to. The lime green robes were as attention-catching as any. The Wizengamot collectively inclined their heads, and the Healers sat down.

"The Sorting Hat greeted them both and had them experience the memories of Mr. Potter through a Pensieve. Mr. Shacklebolt, if you would, please ingest three drops of Veritaserum, and present to the Wizengamot your experience of Mr. Potter's memories."

* * *

Kingsley Shacklebolt's walk to the stand seemed almost slow to Dumbledore. His trepidation grew- he could not cast a spell upon himself to cancel the effects of the Veritaserum without it being noticed.

* * *

"Madam Bones and I were the second to view Mr. Potter's memories, as the Sorting Hat thought it prudent that the Healers do so first, so as to allow them time to discover what they could do to help the Potter boy. They had come out looking shocked and sick, and right away I realized that this was in no way going to be pleasant. Healers are trained to keep emotion from their faces, as we all know, and so emotion from such a thing gave no good news.

"When Madam Bones and I entered into Mr. Potter's memories, we started when he must have been four. Even from a young age, he was treated appallingly. We had entered in the middle of a particularly severe beating, which had left the boy a purple-ish black in many places. He was denied meals and given most of the house chores even then. His room was a small cupboard under the stairs of their house. The people who had him in their house had a son around Harry's age, who, throughout most of the memories, was allowed to torment him whenever he liked.

"These experiences did not change through the years. He was beaten and starved from at least four years old until one month before he came to Hogwarts. From what I can tell, the only moments of solace he had involved being cared for a handful of times by someone whom we know to be a Squib that lives in the area, and later by a chance meeting with whom I and Madam Bones know to be Nymphadora Tonks, who is currently in the Auror Program. He was not given any sort of care, from nutrition to housing to the clothes he wore.

"This shocked me deeply, and as an Auror, I hope the seriousness of that statement is not lost upon the ladies and gentlemen of the Wizengamot. I have been in this profession for almost seven years, and while I was not here during the War, I have seen atrocities and cases that would shock and disgust those here in the court. I do not lightly say that the things I have witnessed tonight top all but one case. We are lucky in the regard that Mr. Potter did not suffer from sexual abuse, but I say lucky in that one may be lucky to find one live hen after three foxes have killed a coop."

Kingsley Shacklebolt ended his statement, and swept back to his seat. The courtroom was silent.

Cornelius Fudge cleared his throat, although it might have been an effort to not choke up.

"Healer Gretchen Burke, if you would, please ingest three drops of Veritaserum. We would like you to confirm or deny Mr. Shacklebolt's experience of Mr. Potter's memories, and then relate to the Wizengamot what you have discovered about Harry James Potter's physical condition."

One of the lime green figures stood and went to the Minister's desk, where she too imbibed the Veritaserum.

"I can confirm the entirety of Shacklebolt's statement, up to and including the meeting of Nymphadora Tonks, who I have seen many a time, as her mother worked at St. Mungo's up until five years ago.

"Healer MacMillan and I accompanied Mr. Potter to the Hogwarts hospital wing, where we performed tests on the boy for the length of two hours. We found no broken bones and no sign of sexual assault, but what we did find was just as shocking. He is incredibly malnourished and small. There are signs of extensive nerve damage around his hands, feet, and neck. There are seven different sites of internal bleeding, as well as twenty three major blood vessels that will need to be repaired over the course of the next three months. In addition there has been some permanent damage to his eyes which will only be able to be corrected marginally; he will need glasses for the rest of his life.

"In light of these injuries, he will need to attend either St. Mungo's or the Hogwarts hospital wing for treatments and Healing for the next three months. I humbly request that Healer MacMillan or I will attend to these treatments, as we were on the scene, and conducted the necessary tests."

Cornelius Fudge nodded.

"I need to request that Madam Amelia Bones and Healer Anne MacMillan ingest three drops of Veritaserum to confirm that all that has been said is correct to their memory."

When this was done, Fudge looked to Dumbledore, who almost made his chair look a throne.

"The charges brought before you, Dumbledore, are this: That you knowingly and deliberately placed Harry James Potter into a household that would abuse him for years; that you did nothing to ensure that Harry James Potter would be treated fairly inside of this home; and that you mislead others into becoming accomplices in the ten years' long abuse that Mr. Potter has faced.

"You will now be given an opportunity to defend your actions, held under Veritaserum."

* * *

Dumbledore's defense was long, and well thought out. Most of the Wizengamot was convinced, toward the end, that there had been no other choice, and that he truly had no idea that Harry would have been abused. After all, who would suspect that a boys' relatives would be so truly terrible, even if they were Muggles?

When the Wizengamot was finally coming to a close, Amelia Bones brought out the final piece of evidence. She was not letting Dumbledore go for such an extreme case as this.

"Ladies and Gentlemen of the Wizengamot," she said, and heads turned toward her.

Eyes that held attention now held confusion, and she continued.

"Before leaving, I was given a vial of memories from Professor Minerva McGonagall, detailing the night that Harry Potter was left upon his Aunt and Uncle's doorstep."

Dumbledore's confidence slipped slightly.

"I humbly request that we bring out the Pensieve, and view the Professor's memories."

Fudge was taken aback, but tried to appear for all the world that this crazy night wasn't fazing him.

"Very well."

The floor of the courtroom opened, and what looked like a giant Pensieve came from the floor. This Pensieve was different from others, apart from its size, because it projected the memory into everyone in the room. Amelia Bones withdrew from her robes a small vial, and poured a silvery substance into it, and it engulfed the Wizengamot.

The memory started out simply, with a cat on a brick wall, watching a fat young man kiss his rather bony looking wife and son goodbye. He had looked strangely at the cat before he left. It was at this point that the memory detailed more. The family was the Dursleys more than ten years ago, and it showed with vivid detail the sort of people that they were. The child was spoiled and awful, with no regard for its mother. The mother herself spent her time snorting and looking down her bony nose upon everyone that she came across. On the walk she had with her son, she had successfully caused four different people she came across to cry through rude words, and the child had been kicking her for sweets the entire time. When the husband arrived home, he had only laughed at the behavior, and showered the child with praise. When the couple had gone to bed, Albus Dumbledore arrived on the street, and the cat changed into the form of Professor McGonagall. She intoned her concerns to Dumbledore, and was brushed off offhandedly. It was then that Hagrid arrived, another surprise, and the Wizengamot almost had a heart attack when the name 'Sirius Black' was mentioned.

When it had ended, a courtroom that had been about to let Dumbledore go with a slap on the wrist was now set dead against him. Dumbledore thought privately that McGonagall was losing her position for this, if he was going to be in a position to take it.

* * *

"This is frankly appalling." State Fudge, finally. "Albus Dumbledore, you have only given us partial and half truths in your testimony, and so I rule that you have lied by omission."

"Ladies and Gentlemen of the Wizengamot, I ask that a vote be taken. Will all in favor of convicting Albus Dumbledore as an accomplice to the ten year abuse suffered by a small boy please raise their hands?"

Hands were raised. So many, in fact, that asking who was in favor of clearing charges was only a formality.

"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, you have hereby been convicted of being an accessory to one of the worst abuse cases the Wizengamot has ever seen. You are hereby stripped of the title of Headmaster of Hogwarts, as you can no longer be trusted to oversee a school of children. You will be stripped of your title as Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, as you are no longer trusted to give a truthful apology to the Wizengamot. You will be stripped of the title Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, because a person who does not look after the children they are in charge of cannot be trusted to build magical relations around the world. You are also stripped of any and all positions of financial guardianship of Harry James Potter, and any articles of the Potter family in your possession are to be hereby placed in the Trust Vault for Harry Potter, for him to withdraw at his leisure."

Ten years of planning; gone.


	5. 5: Settling into Hogwarts

**AN: I got some really great reviews, thank you guys!**

**First, thanks for following this story! I never expected it to get this big (with only 5 chapters in)! Over 250 followers, thanks guys!**

**Second, to the (very freaking rude) guest reviewer who went by the name of "Katconan", who questioned whether I read the books before putting Harry in Gryffindor for the purpose of this story, let me explain something to you.**

**Hufflepuff, while any sort of bullying within the House will be minimal, garners the disdain (falsely, but that doesn't really matter) from other Houses. Not to mention, Harry Potter is a loner; not someone who plays for a team. Thus strikes out Hufflepuff, who above all things values teamwork and banding together.**

**Ravenclaw, because it is the House is of the wise, Harry will not gain entry. He's smart, but he doesn't think things through. He's impulsive, as described in the original story when he says "Not Slytherin" as a gut reaction. Here in this story, we have someone who doesn't want to be a victim anymore asking for just that, which is a gut reaction, and I described it as such. A Ravenclaw is not an impulsive person, so Harry won't be going there.**

**Thus, Slytherin and Gryffindor are the only two possible houses. Except, Harry is not seeking power, nor is he particularly cunning, nor does he ever want to spend any more time navigating the reactions of other people.**

**Oh, what is this? Gryffindor is left? Of course. The House of the Brave and Courageous, and that more than anything is what an eleven year old who remembers nothing but pain and disdain would want. The Sorting Hat uses values in addition to traits. Gryffindor is home to both loners and teams alike. Gryffindor stands up for the beaten and downtrodden. Gryffindor is also now home to Neville, who is Harry's closest thing to a real friend.**

**Now take this into account with the fact that Dumbledore has been sacked effective last chapter, and basically barred any contact with Harry Potter. Let's also take into account that this is Harry effing Potter, who just got Sorted into Gryffindor. The entirety of Gryffindor loves him, even if they're trying to figure out what in the hell just happened with the Sorting Hat. In fact, as far as books go, O Ye of Little Faith, his housemates only bully him when he's caught SNEAKING AROUND AT NIGHT, AND **_**DESTROYS**_** their hope of winning the House Cup. Actually, it was total bull that they won that House Cup, and only happened because of Dumbledore's favoritism. And people claim Snape picks favorites. Sheesh.**

**For the nice reviewers: The eventual guardian of Harry will probably be Sirius Black, when he's released from Azkaban. YES, that's going to happen! Been the plan since the beginning. However, politics and past grudges are going to make that a very slow process, and so he probably won't be completely free until the middle of Harry's second year. **

**Story Time!**

Chapter 5: Settling into Hogwarts, or: The Outrage

Harry woke up about a half hour after the sunrise. It was way too early, he thought, but realized he wasn't the only one awake.

"Hi Neville." Said Harry, and the figure in the bed adjacent to him sent out a muffled "Hi."

"What time is breakfast?"

"I dunno," came the reply, and Neville's head poked through the curtains on the four poster bed. "I don't wanna go out, though."

"Why not?" asked Harry, and Neville's uncomfortable looking face disappeared behind the curtain again.

"Well, everyone was laughing at me when I forgot to take the hat off, you know. And then they all started asking me why the Hat did that… that… thing it did when it was on you."

"Oh." Harry began awkwardly, and tried to busy himself with getting ready.

"Harry? Could you… you know… tell me why it did that?" asked Neville, peeking his head out of the curtains again.

Harry remained pointedly silent, and Neville continued.

"Everyone kinda started freaking out, you know. All the older students were trying to figure out what was going on, and everyone was getting really scared. Even the Prefects. All the teachers had to step in and shut everyone up."

Harry pulled on his robes slowly. "I don't want to talk about it right now… Maybe later, okay?"

At that, another boy got out of bed, and Harry recognized him as the red haired kid he had seen last night; one of the Weasleys. He was half groggy, but seemed excited enough to talk.

"That was crazy last night! Everyone was freaking out, and of course everyone in Ravenclaw was all mad they didn't have something that could tell them WHY that happened. As if anyone other than a Ravenclaw would really care why. It was weird though, this one teacher, Percy told me it was Snape, looked ready to chew a hole through his plate. I dunno why."

Harry was getting distinctly more uncomfortable with every word Weasley spoke.

Once dressed, he walked out of the dorm, with a quick 'bye' to Neville. He heard the Weasley boy ask something about what Harry must be so worked up about, but closed the door anyway. He made to find Professor McGonagall, and then realized- he didn't have a clue where her office was.

Harry didn't dare leave the Common Room to find it- the castle was huge, and he'd get lost for sure. He resolved to ask an older student where her office was when they came out, and so sat down in one of the squashy looking armchairs in the common room, next to the fire. Strange, how it was September, and yet the fire was pleasant. Harry had no time to marvel at this bit of magic, before a rumbling down the staircase brought none other than Fred and George.

Harry was suddenly nervous. He had always been around other people when they were in the room, and while they seemed fun, he might have heard a little too much about their penchant for trouble.

"Ah, there's our little Potter!" said one, obviously excited.

"Right time we got to talk to you." Said the other.

One each plopped on the sides of him, causing the armchair to become dangerously crowded.

"So, we're not idiots, so even though we want to ask you EVERY LITTLE DETAIL about what happened last night, we won't."

"But," the other (George?) "We DO want to know how you met Tonks, and why she cursed Percy so bad that he's still hopping a little."

"Quickly, too. Breakfast starts in twenty minutes, and we managed to smuggle in a Fillibuster firework that's going off under Snape's chair as soon as he sits down."

And so Harry recounted (quickly) his month at The Leaky Cauldron.

Fred and George both had wide eyes.

"She TAUGHT you? Tonks?" They said in unison and (Fred?) continued.

"She never teaches ANYONE, unless it's with a hex or something!"

"Well, none of the people here were Harry Potter, Freddie." Said the other, and Harry made a quick note that the one with the robes fastened to the left was indeed Fred Weasley.

"So why did she curse Percy?" George continued.

"He called her by her, uh, first name."

They nodded somberly. "That would do it."

They got off his armchair and were halfway out of the entrance when Harry thought that Fred and George must, of course, know where McGonagall's office was.

"Wait! Can you tell me where Professor McGonagall is? She said I need to see her before breakfast."

The twins quickly adopted expressions suitable for a funeral.

"See that hallway across from the stairs to the dorms? Walk down there, and hers is on the end."

* * *

Minerva McGonagall had gotten up two hours before dawn. She hadn't expected nightmares, but there they were. Albus had lied to her, ten years ago, and had been lying since, about the boy. What would James and Lily do to her had they been alive and found out the kind of thing that she had let their son live in?

She had gotten ready as per her usual schedule then, and it was an hour before Harry knocked on her door that she had received a rather large package carried by a handsome tawny owl. On one side was her name and location, and the other…

"Official Ministry Business, Please Respond Immediately."

This couldn't be good.

It was quite thick, with many a parchment concerning Harry Potter; his parents' last will, a list of the Potter Family Assets, among them. There was a letter detailing the date of the Wizengamot for conviction and sentencing for his aunt and uncle. Minerva shook her head. If how he had acted since he came here was an indication, he did not want to attend that in any way. Another letter sent the diagnosis of Harry's physical condition, and stated that the Healers were going to There were other papers that she didn't read, but the last in the large pile was a letter addressed her her.

She had read that letter twice. After about ten minutes of digestion, she read it again.

This... couldn't be.

_From the Office of Cornelius Fudge_

_Minister for Magic_

_Mrs. Minerva McGonagall,_

_This letter is to inform you that as of 11:43 last night, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore has been deposed as Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The twelve School Board Members will arrive at six o' clock in the evening to announce this to school body and students tonight. As Deputy Headmistress, you are to take on the Head duties until it is decided that you are to either continue as Headmistress, or a suitable alternative is found._

_Cornelius Fudge,_

_Minister for Magic_

_Mafalda Hopkirk,_

_Senior Undersecretary_

* * *

When Harry knocked on the door, it was a few minutes before a response. Finally, the voice of McGonagall, older and hard, but still feminine, called "You may enter."

When Harry opened the door, McGonagall quickly shifted her expression from the haggard one she'd had before into one of the stern but caring teacher. It was one she had come to perfect, and she had disciplined as well as comforted many a student with that face.

Upon her desk was a large amount of parchment, with an ink well and quill. She looked to be just finished with writing a letter.

"You wanted to see me, Professor?" The question was soft, but assured. McGonagall allowed a small smile in his direction.

"Yes, Potter, thank you."

She took out her wand, and wordlessly summoned a piece of parchment.

"Last night, I drew up something of what the Muggles call a 'game plan'. You will attend classes with the other students as usual. However, it's been decided that you'll need some extra help due to your… past." She grimaced and continued. "On Saturdays, you are required to report to the Hospital Wing and receive some healing from St. Mungo's. This will continue for the next three months. As for emotional and mental damage, the Sorting Hat has agreed to be something of a… counselor. He says it will certainly be better than just sitting in the Headmaster's office all year."

At the mention of the Headmaster's office, Harry became a little more withdrawn.

"I don't really want to go there, Professor."

"To what?"

"To the Headmaster's office."

"Why not?"

Harry remained silent and looked at the floor, but it didn't take long for McGonagall to figure out what he meant.

"Rest assured, Harry, Professor Dumbledore will no longer be in the Headmaster's office."

Despite his apprehensiveness, Harry was curious.

"Why is that, Professor?"

McGonagall made up her mind, then.

"Because effective this morning, it is mine."

* * *

Harry attended breakfast and received his class schedule. Their first class was Transfiguration, and right away Harry found out why it was that McGonagall was so stern.

"Transfiguration is an important, precise Magic. Any irregular wand movements can cause painful and gruesome results, particularly in a few years when you learn bodily Transfigurations. This, however, can be just as dangerous. I will give you an example.

"A wizard decides to Transfigure a block of metal into an animal, and he does an improper job. Tell me, what might happen?"

A hand was raised, and attached to it was Hermione Granger.

"The animal might die?"

"A good guess, but no."

Hermione's expression fell slightly as McGonagall continued. Harry supposed she was expecting to get everything right. He turned back to McGonagall.

"The metal can react badly with magic done improperly, and explode in the middle of your Transfiguration. How dangerous is flying metal?"

There was silence in the class.

"I will show you proper Transfiguration technique right now." She said, and turned her classroom desk into a pig.

There was a collective gasp around the classroom.

"You will not be learning that for another few years," she said, and there were people looking crestfallen.

"You will need to learn theories first. You will need to learn wand movements and technique. You will also need to learn to control the power that flows through you to your wand. Your first assignment today will be to Transfigure a sliver of wood into a needle. You must visualize the needle. It must be a clear picture in your mind.

"Please open your books to page seven, and be sure to pay special attention to the way your wand must move for small Transfigurations. You have the rest of your class period and before class on Wednesday to be able to Transfigure the wood."

* * *

By the end of class, no one had managed to Transfigure the stick into a needle, although Hermione's took on a silvery quality with a point. Harry himself had managed to make a hole inside the wood like a needle, although no silver showed up. Neville had fared poorly. At the end of class he was visibly upset.

"My Gran's right, Harry, I'll never be good at magic. I'm hopeless."

"That's not true," said Harry. "Look, I bet you're just holding the wand wrong, we'll try it after Herbology, okay? There's a free period."

Neville did not look convinced, but agreed.

Herbology had done wonders for Neville's spirit. He really seemed to love plants, and assisted Professor Sprout at any opportunity, at Harry's prodding. At the end of class, he'd earned a point for Gryffindor, and it improved his mood enough that he'd cheerfully went with Harry into the Gryffindor Common Room to practice his wand movement.

"Look, the diagram in the book says to hold your wand like a quill, see?"

Harry held out his wand for Neville to look at.

"But I did that, and it didn't work."

"Well, it also says you have to feel the spell in your arm, so I guess you need to concentrate on feeling the Magic really hard."

Neville's face was crestfallen. "I've never been able to feel magic really strongly. Even when I got my wand."

"Well, let's try it. Just concentrate."

Neville screwed up his face in concentration, but nothing happened.

"Maybe it's just going to take you longer to get it. A lot of people didn't do it today."

Neville nodded glumly, and they headed off to Charms after the free period, where Neville was marginally better than Transfiguration.

* * *

At dinner, Harry sat down next to Neville, hardly noticing the large group of older men and women near the head table. He was instead looking at Neville, who was still practicing his wand movements, when Hermione came and sat next to them.

"Whatever are you doing, Neville?"

"I'm trying to figure out what I'm doing wrong for Transfiguration," said Neville, and Harry added that the movement was right, he just needed to put in more feeling.

"Well," began Hermione importantly, "What if something's wrong with your wand?"

Neville looked a little irritated. "It was my dad's wand, there's nothing wrong with it." He said, and a group of Ravenclaws that had been walking by stopped.

"Why are you using your dad's wand?" asked one. "Your wand needs to choose you, otherwise it's not going to work properly."

Neville mumbled something about his Gran wanting him to measure up to his dad, and another Ravenclaw spoke.

"Well, you certainly won't measure up to whatever high standards your Gran wants if the wand you're using doesn't work for you."

Neville's protests were lost as the Hall was ordered to be quiet, and Professor McGonagall stepped up to the podium.

"Will everyone please settle down?" she asked, although it was more of a command from her.

The last of the ruckus died down, and the students looked at her inquisitively. Usually the Headmaster gave the announcements.

"By now, I'm sure a number of you have realized that Headmaster Dumbledore has no attended any meals, nor has he been seen around the Grounds. This is because the Board of Governors, who are involved with the Wizengamot, have decided that Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry would be best served with another Headmaster."

There was a collective outbreak of murmuring. Harry knew right away why Dumbledore had been sacked, and tried to make himself as small as possible.

"The Board Leader will stand up now and address you directly."

An older man, with graying hair, stood up and walked to the podium. He was short and pudgy, with rounded features. Neville gasped. "That's my Great-Uncle Algie!" he furiously whispered to the others, and Harry concentrated a little more.

"The Board of Governors, as you well know, is well involved with the Ministry of Magic. Last night we were all called to the Wizengamot, on a matter of upmost importance, concerning Professor Dumbledore.

"It was discovered that night that Headmaster Dumbledore was indirectly, but deliberately, responsible for the mistreatment of a child at the hands of another. Because of this, he has been removed from the post of Headmaster, and has been duly replaced by Professor Minerva McGonagall. Since it is only a day into your schoolyear, a new Transfiguration teacher has been hired immediately for your classes.

"Students, please welcome Professor Tonks."

Harry's head whipped directly at the sound of 'Tonks', and found an older, but fit man standing at the end of the Staff table, who took a short bow. He was of average height, and in fact seemed quite plain, until a smirk appeared on the side of his face that reminded Harry immediately of… Tonks.

How was he supposed to get anyone to know who he was talking about now?

With that concluded, Mr… Longbottom, Harry supposed, was about to step off the stage, when a shout from the Hufflepuff table called out, "Who was it that Dumbledore did that to?"

Algie Longbottom looked distinctly uncomfortable.

"We're not at liberty to say."

"Why not?" asked another voice from Hufflepuff. "If it was a Hogwarts student, we have every right to know who it was. They'll need a family, right?" There was a collective murmur of agreement among the Hufflepuffs.

"While your intentions are noble and oriented in care, Mr. Diggory," interjected Professor McGonagall sternly, "It would be better if what happened is kept between the student in question and the Ministry. Please do not infringe on their privacy."

"What are you talking about?" piped up a student from the Slytherin table. "Obviously more than the kid and the Ministry know, or you wouldn't know either. What are you really hiding?"

McGonagall looked about ready to chew rocks.

"Well?" came the voice again. "I'm right, aren't I?"

"The next person that speaks on this will have detention and lose twenty points!" McGonagall shouted, but the uproar was too loud for her to be heard. It wasn't until a man in the Board of Governers stood up, came to the front, and cast a silencing spell, that anyone could be heard.

"Now, students, that is enough," he began smoothly. Ron, who had sat by them during the rush for dinner seats, paled.

"That's Lucius Malfoy, that is. He's got a kid here too. They're all Slytherins, and almost every wizard ever who went bad was a Slytherin."

Harry made a face. It was highly unlikely that all Slytherins were bad people. Hermione thought the same thing.

"That's completely stupid. I read all about the Hogwarts Houses, and even if You-Know-Who came from there, so did Merlin."

Ron was about to retort when Malfoy spoke again.

"You have all be informed with the truth, that Dumbledore is not to return because of his treatment of a student. The identity of that student will not be revealed when the details of the trial are released to the public. Now, you are to continue as you would if there was no change, that is to say, like civilized human beings."

He left the stand, and left Harry with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

….This was going to be published?

* * *

"Professor, do they have to publish this?"

They were sitting alone in McGonagall's study.. Or former study, he supposed. She was moving the Headmaster's quarters tomorrow. McGonagall was looking worn.

"It's the right of the Wizarding public to know the Wizenamot's decisions. You are lucky they will not publish your name, and this is only because you are not of Wizarding age.

"But…"

"I'm afraid I can't do anything, Harry. I should also tell you, the staff knows already, they were told before dinner. Rest assured, no one will say anything to you."

* * *

Severus Snape was pacing along the floor of his office, in the most foul mood possible. So foul, in fact, that most of Slytherin House avoided going near his door. This included Draco Malfoy, self-proclaimed favorite of the Head.

Dumbledore had lied to him. With a sneer, he supposed that he shouldn't be surprised. Dumbledore lied from the beginning. Dumbledore was a Slytherin with the ruthless, reckless, mean streak of a Gryffindor. Dumbledore admired courage and bravery; he did not have it.

A knock on the door sounded, and Snape cursed the door to grow spikes. There was a satisfying yelp on the other side.

Lily Potter's son… He had looked first at Harry, and the shock of seeing a miniature James threatened to undo his self control. He had almost fired out a hex before he realized what happened, and quickly stowed his wand away. It was only when he was closer, trying on the Hat, that he'd seen the familiar, green, almond shaped eyes. He almost didn't hate the boy, then. When the Hat had ran over seven minutes, he'd been angry. Just like a Potter to steal the show. That announcement, though… that had surprised him. He'd wondered over it, until before dinner, when they'd be informed in full by their.. New Headmistress. His first sarcastic, vengeful thought, was that a Potter finally had what was coming to him. He'd then remembered the eyes…

How could anyone do that to those eyes?

* * *

And so the first week passed. Transfiguration was a little more animated with Professor Tonks, but he was still strict and precise. It seemed that particular magic just needed a stern hand, which might explain why Neville wasn't doing so well, although Professor Tonks had took one look at Neville and his wand and said he needed a new one.

"But my Gran…"

"Oh bother your Gran, boy. You don't have a connection with that wand. If I don't see you with a new wand by the start of next week, one that chose you, I'll have our Headmistress send HER a Howler."

* * *

Their Potions class on Friday was quiet, and full of stress.

Snape had come out immediately with calling role, and he'd hesitated, half menacingly, half unsure, over "Harry Potter", but it was so quick that Harry thought he'd imagined it. Professor Snape wore a scowl all the time, and only spoke when snapping corrections. Harry thought the lesson might have been more fun with a lively teacher. Neville had barely got out with his wits.

"He's so scary, Harry! I swear, when he looks at me, it's like he's wishing I'd drop dead."

"I think he just likes being intimidating."

This did not change Neville's mind.

* * *

Neville truly did love Herbology, and he excelled at it. In fact, he and Hermione were neck-and-neck for points earned in the class. Harry strongly suspected it had to do with Neville and him becoming friends. Neville was a lot more confident now than he was when they first met at Madam Malkin's. They were seen together commonly, swapping ideas and experiences. This was made a lot easier for Harry after he finally confided into Neville his living conditions for the past ten years, after swearing him to secrecy. Neville had been a rapt, attentive, and horrified audience.

"What are they gonna do to your aunt and uncle when they go in front of the Wizengamot?" Neville asked, half horrified, half interested, after Harry told him what McGonagall said the night before.

"I dunno what they can do, really. I didn't even know there was a wizarding court before all this."

"I bet they go into Azkaban."

"What's Azkaban?"

Neville jumped to explain. Harry liked that Neville tended to explain things simply, rather than Hermione, who just the other day had tried to explain a paragraph in "Magical Theory", as if he'd asked for an essay, rather than the meaning of one phrase. He liked Hermione alright, but sometimes it seemed like all that bushy hair was actually hiding an additional brain.

"It's the wizard prison. It's where they put all the bad criminals, like all the people who were with You-Know-Who."

"Who's in there?"

"A lot.. I mean, there's Dolohov, and Rookwood, and Sirius Black, and…"

Neville trailed off, silent, but Harry didn't push it. The last name Neville said had sounded familiar.

"Who was Sirius Black?"

"He was really dangerous. He killed twelve Muggles and a wizard all in one blast. I don't really know much else."

"Maybe I'll ask Professor McGonagall."

"Why not Professor Tonks?"

Since McGonagall had taken over as Headmistress, Professor Tonks had become head of Gryffindor house. He was friendlier and more charismatic, and even Harry had come to look forward to being around him. He still shook his head. He didn't want the Professor to find out anything more than he had already, since it would get back to Tonks (herself). He was already sure that Tonks would find out about what Harry went through at the Dursley's, and he didn't want to be anywhere around her when she did. And as close as he had come with Neville in the past month, this wasn't something he wanted to share.

"I feel like McGonagall would know more."


End file.
